


Superhelden

by orphan_account



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Implied Relationships, Implied Twincest, Paranormal, th_fanfic FQF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>‘The second creak wasn’t a figment of his imagination, this one was much louder followed by a loud snapping and Georg looked above just in time to see the heavy light fixture already in freefall.’</i>
</p><p>When Gustav saves Georg in what seemed like impossible circumstances it opens a whole can of worms that should have remained firmly sealed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superhelden

**Author's Note:**

> th_fanfic Georg FQF 2010: Gustav has superpowers, but all he's ever wanted to do with his life is play the drums. Georg finds out when he gets himself in trouble one day, and Gustav saves him. Georg keeps picking at him, trying to figure why Gustav would limit himself to "only" being in their band when he's got these amazing powers, and reticent Gustav has to explain, and show him, that's he's not running away from his powers - he really does think he's doing what he's meant for.
> 
> This took ages to write, even though it’s not that long. My muse was having tea break I fear. A big thank you to Sarahsan for betaing this on what I believe is _ridiculously_ short notice.

He saw it before it fell. He’d heard an ominous creak from above and looked up at the large spotlight hanging there as it should. Dismissing the noise as a figment of his imagination, he continued to sit on his box lovingly fine tuning his Sandberg.

The second creak wasn’t a figment of his imagination, this one was much louder followed by a loud snapping and Georg looked above just in time to see the heavy light fixture already in freefall. It was like something from a cartoon, not enough time to move; all Georg could do was sit there and realise he’d found out how he was going to end it all. It was almost funny in a way, how quick the thoughts ran through your head when you were about to die. He closed his eyes with finality.

There was a soft thump next to him; there Gustav stood the light in his arms. He then placed it on the floor, his face devoid of any emotion, and he turned and walked off the stage without a word.

Gustav hadn’t been anywhere near him. He hadn’t even seen him on the stage and then from nowhere Gustav had saved his life? There wasn’t enough time for _him_ to move out of the way and yet Gustav had managed to... to what? Snatch the light out of thin air it seemed.

It’s not physically possible, surely?

Georg stood shakily, staring after Gustav’s calmly retreating form. He didn’t call after Gustav. What would he say anyway? Georg was perfectly happy with not questioning it. Maybe Gustav had been standing in Georg’s blind spot. Maybe he saw it fall before Georg did. Georg was pretty good at glossing over the little things in order to preserve his sanity. 

He was a curious person once upon a time. The twins soon put a stop to that, not intentionally, but being curious about what happened between them meant trying to explain a lot of things that couldn’t be explained away. Like the undeniable sound of Tom banging a groupie in the band flat and then the lack of sound of someone leaving and breathless giggles that sounded awfully like Bill...

No. He wasn’t going to think about those kinds of things. That train of thought only lead to bad headaches. He wandered over to the light, ready to pick it up and put it out the way so no-one banged into it and bruised themselves. The corners in particular looked deadly.

He bent down and grabbed the bar on top and was almost brought back to earth when the fixing did not budge. Not one inch.

Then he remembered; he’d seen these being put up back when he had been interested in the technical side of things. Those lights were so heavy that it took at least four of the roadies to comfortably carry one. How had Gustav cradled it in his arms like it was no heavier than a shopping bag and now that he thought about it he _knew_ that Gustav hadn’t been on the stage. That left two options: either he’d imagined the whole thing and he was asleep or Gustav was somehow impossibly fast and strong all of a sudden.

A swift kick to the light fixture that spread pain through Georg’s toes confirmed his fears. He hadn’t imagined it. This had really happened. He had stared death in the face and been saved by a drummer. He needed to talk to Gustav and find out what had just gone down. 

Georg walked in the direction that Gustav had left the stage, eventually finding Gustav playing cards in the green room with a half asleep Tom and an excited and overenthusiastic Bill who had sat himself in Tom’s lap in order to try and sneak a peek at his twin’s cards. If Gustav thought that sitting with the twins would protect him from the inevitable line of questioning then he was sorely mistaken. Georg wanted answers and he wanted them now.

“What the hell happened back there?” he all but shouted at Gustav; this wasn’t the time for tact. The various Kaulitzes in the room stopped their activities to stare at Georg in confusion and then turned their heads simultaneously to Gustav.

“It’s seriously nothing.” Gustav said calmly, “Don’t worry about it.”

“You seriously think I’m not going to question something like that? Even you can’t pretend that something didn’t happen.”

Georg saw Bill and Tom looking at each other, exchanging a wordless conversation before Bill spoke up. “Do you need us to leave or something?”

“Yes,” said Georg.

“No,” exclaimed Gustav at the same time.

Tom shifted Bill gently off his lap and they stood up, “Come on Bill, let’s go annoy David.”

Gustav glared at them. “Traitors!”

As they left, Georg walked over to Gustav and perched next to him on the sofa. “I’d like some kind of answer please.”

Gustav said nothing.

“That wasn’t humanly possible, so tell me, how did you manage that?”

It swiftly became obvious that Gustav was not going to be answering any of the questions that Georg had.

“Ok, I’m going to ask a question and I just want a simple yes or no in reply.”

Silence still prevailed.

Georg steeled himself to ask his entirely serious question. “Are you a vampire?”

“A vampire?” Gustav’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “Really Georg, I know that you’re suffering post traumatic stress or something but what on earth makes you think vampires are real? And even if they were it’s the middle of the day!”

“That means nothing.” The brunet insisted, “Some stories say vampires can stay alive in the middle of the day.”

Gustav turned his snort of laughter into a cough. “Oh yes, because I’m obviously the dazzling Edward to your beautiful Bella.” Gustav said with a flutter of his eyes, “Are you going to fall hopelessly in love with me?”

Georg chose to ignore both the jibe and Gustav’s evasiveness, “I still think you might be a vampire.”

Gustav shook his head, “I should have never let you read _Twilight_...”

The bassist looked indignant and then at least had the decency to blush. “I wasn’t talking about that.” He insisted, “Some powerful and old vampires are supposed to use their powers to go into the sun and stuff.”

“If vampires were real I’m pretty sure that people would know about it. I can say in all honesty I am not a vampire. I am human, end of.” He got up off the sofa, signalling the end of the conversation and left to presumably save David from the twins.

Georg knew that this wasn’t the end of the conversation. He would find the truth, even if he had to force it out.

He came up with a plan.

***

Georg was sitting on the balcony. This was a cunning plan even if he did say so himself; he had initially dismissed it as dangerous, but a splash of Dutch courage mixed with a lack of additional alternative plans and he had re-evaluated The Plan (so awesome it deserved capitals) as not half bad.

The idea was to recreate the scene from yesterday (or some scene in which _someone_ would need saving), forcing Gustav to show his superhero powers or whatever the hell they were. Ok so the plan wasn’t one hundred percent formed yet but he’d get there eventually. He just needed a reasonable excuse to put himself in danger.

All the guys were in his hotel room raiding the mini-bar and it being a warm night it was a perfect excuse for Georg to go and stand on the balcony. As soon as he was out there in the still of the night the plan became fully formed. He turned to make sure that Gustav was looking then climbed shakily onto the rail. He took a few deep breaths to still his nerves. ‘It’s ok,’ he reminded himself ‘Gustav will save me’ he shifted his weight forward gently. He wondered if before the point Gustav would catch him it would feel like flying.

He started to fall forward when he was snatched back with and with a thud fell on top of his rescuer. He stood up to look at Gustav and demand to know how he got from the other side of the room all the way to the balcony in a second, but when he stood up he saw that it wasn’t a rescuer. It was rescuers.

Bill and Tom had obviously flung themselves from their spot by the French windows over to Georg in order to save him.

“What are you doing, you idiot!” Tom yelled.

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Bill shrieked.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” The two headed hydra finished in unison.

“Seriously, what were you thinking?” Gustav interjected far more sedately than the other two. Gustav probably knew exactly what Georg was doing. He was trying to put Georg on the spot. He couldn’t very well say ‘I was trying to prove that Gustav had super powers.’ Could he?

“I... was wondering... what it felt like to fly...” he stuttered out; even to his drunk ears that sounded borderline insane.

The infuriating smirk that graced Gustav’s face almost sent Georg into a frenzy’ that smug bastard didn’t have the decency to confess and now he was trying to make _Georg_ look like the crazy one?

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Georg.” Gustav said, “I think it’s sleepy time.”

Obviously the plan (Georg removed the capitals in his head, stupid plan) wasn’t as good as Georg initially thought it was.

Maybe he was just giving up too soon. There must be a better way to initiate the plan.

He’d just have try again.

***

“Don’t worry, the lights are really secure now; we’ve sorted everything. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” the nameless tech insisted. Georg tried to look like he was happy about this, but inside he was groaning. This was the third plan that didn’t work; the balcony, then in the club he’d tried to get himself into a fight, but damn Saki had saved the day by breaking up the fight and sending Georg home. And now when he needed them to be unstable the lights were secure? How was he supposed to get Gustav to tell him he had superpowers now? Unless...

Unless he could just _ask_. He had been so obsessed with trying to force Gustav to admit his superpowers to him that he’d completely abandoned the subtle art of diplomacy. Why not just say outright. ‘I know you have powers and I just want to know why.’ No accusations, no drama, just simple social niceties. Hello. How are you? How the fuck did you get super powers?

***

Georg was being avoided, he was sure. Normally he and Gustav hung out at least for a few hours a night, but now Gustav was getting up at unholy hours of the morning and going out for long walks in the middle of nowhere and going to sleep really early. Well, more than normal anyway. Georg was pissed. Even if Gustav didn’t want to answer Georg’s questions he was still his best friend. He should stand up and answer the question to get the enquiry over with. Then they could go back to the way they were before.

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer anymore. Georg Listing was not one to give up over a simple matter of avoidance.

***

“Gustav!” Georg had finally found the drummer who turned around with a look of mild dread on his face, which quickly turned into resignation.

“Hey.”

Georg didn’t know how to break into this conversation gently so he decided just to go for it.

“Since when have you been superhumanly strong?”

The sigh that followed the question was strained, as if wondering whether or not to be honest. Georg hoped that Gustav would be honest; he’d not spent all this time trying to find out the truth just to be lied to.

“I’ve always been like this.” Gustav eventually said.

“The speed too?”

“The speed too.”

“Can you do anything else?”

Gustav nodded.

“Can you tell me what it is? It’s not telepathy is it? Because I really didn’t meant to lose those old drumsticks of yours I just wanted to see why you always carried them around and I...”

“That was you?” Gustav barely restrained from shouting.

“Oh, so not telepathic then.” He’d really put his foot in that one.  
“No, not telepathic, just pissed.”

“I’m really sorry.”

Another sigh; those were becoming common place when talking to Gustav. “Don’t worry about it, I just wish that you had told me.”

“So,” Georg pushed gently, “What else is it that you can do?”

“I can fly,” said Gustav, “But just barely. It’s pretty tiring and I can’t exactly go out and practice all the time.”

“Anything else?”

The drummer shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“This is so odd,” Georg stated, taking a minute to process the truth. “But how did you get like that?”

“I don’t know, Georg, if I had an answer honestly you’d be the first person I’d give it to. I was just born this way. So yeah, superhero freak powers or whatever you want to call them, you now know as much as I do. Can we leave it?”

Georg nodded although he was lying. He was immensely glad that Gustav didn’t have mind powers too and therefore didn’t _know_ he was lying.

Now he knew the truth all it did was give him more questions that needed answering. Did Gustav walk the night saving people at random? Did he have an alter ego? And most importantly;

Did he have a cape?

His mind was made up, and as he and Gustav wandered to the media room to set up a game of Band Hero, Georg had resolved to find out the answers, even if it killed him.

***

The question he knew he wouldn’t find an answer to yet was; ‘Did Gustav had an alter ego?’ Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, but alter egos were fiercely guarded secrets. It had been a struggle to wrangle out of Gustav the fact he had superpowers and Georg was fairly sure he wasn’t going to find out whether or not his friend had an alter ego yet. No, Georg needed to gather some evidence first and to that end he set about answering his other two questions.

He wanted to look for the cape, but first it might be locked in some super secret compartment in order to keep it from the general public and secondly he didn’t want to look through Gustav’s underwear. It just wasn’t done.

The question that was easiest to answer was, did he stalk the night saving people? And after two sleepless nights of what he hoped was sneaky observation he could say, at least as far as he could see, that no, Gustav didn’t. He slept heavily and peacefully from the time his head hit the pillow until the first rays of sun peeked through the bunk window and that was it. No unusual night stalking of any kind was going on there.

But this didn’t mean anything, Gustav could be exceptionally sneaky, or maybe there just wasn’t any superhero business that had needed to be done on those nights. Georg needed to monitor Gustav’s actions as long as possible and so over the course of a week he had watched Gustav’s every move, he had timed how long it took Gustav in the shower to see if he could undertake a quick rescue while everyone else was preoccupied, he once even got up _early_ to sneak behind Gustav on one of his long walks to see where he went. And the answer was: Nowhere. Why couldn’t Georg find out what Gustav did? Why was everything so bloody normal?

At every turn there were just more and more questions to puzzle over and so far he had gotten no answers.

As he was milling over his morning bowl of cornflakes one chilly morning it hit Georg; the reason Gustav’s behaviour was so utterly normal was because Gustav wasn’t a superhero. He wasn’t using his powers in any way. His gifts weren’t being harnessed; Gustav had dismissed them like an old box of toys that he’d gotten bored of.

Georg needed to know why Gustav had chosen of all things to be a drummer and, what was more, he needed to convince said drummer to change his career path. If there was anything this world needed it was a superhero.

Georg could even help thinking up a good name, maybe ‘The Hurricane’.

***

“What do you do with your powers?” said Georg as soon as he entered the room.

Gustav did not look up from his paper. “I thought we agreed not to talk about it.”

“No, you asked me leave the conversation on _how_ you got your powers, you never said anything about what you do with them and I’m intrigued. Do you save people often? Can you do everything super fast or just running? Is drumming just a front? What do you do with your powers? It’s fairly simple really.”

“I don’t do anything with them, they just exist. Yes I can do pretty much anything superfast. I haven’t saved that many people because of the powers and drumming is a front for nothing, I do it because I want to.”

“Why not?”

“Why not what?” It was obvious that Gustav was already fed up with this line of questioning. Still Georg wasn’t going to be put off.

“Why don’t you do something with your powers, meet your destiny? Surely that’s why you have them. You’re supposed to do good things in the world not waste your time drumming?”

“Do you want me to leave the band?” Gustav’s jaw tightened.

“No, but that’s not the point. You’re obviously supposed to serve a greater purpose and you’re letting people down.”

“Who the hell am I letting down?” Gustav’s voice was growing angry and his teeth were gritted.

“All those people’s lives that you’re not saving.” Once Georg said it he regretted it; the fury in Gustav’s eyes was palpable. He grabbed Georg by the collar and spoke clearly and coldly.

“Don’t ever say shit like that to me. There is no destiny, there is no purpose; I’m a drummer, and if you ever tell me that I’m wasting my life again then so help me I will knock you out.”

“I’m sorry,” Georg whispered. Gustav let go and sat back in his chair, accepting the apology with no fuss.

Georg continued to stare at Gustav in silence. The stocky blond gave an exasperated sigh when it became obvious the question of ‘why’ still hung in the air and set about trying to explain. “Georg, what did I do when that light fell?”

“You caught it in mid air, you saved my life.”

“Exactly; would that have happened if I wasn’t in the band?”Gustav didn’t leave time for Georg to reply. “No it would not. You would have been crushed.”

“Yeah, but...” Georg began.

“I think that it plenty makes it worth me doing what _I_ want to do, don’t you?”

“But still...” Georg tried again. Gustav rolled his eyes and walked away.

***

Georg leapt out at Gustav from behind the door. “If you were a superhero you could get a cool name.”

Gustav didn’t see fit to dignify that statement with a response. Georg had been popping up with these suggestions all week; at first they were sensible things like not having to put strains on doctors and ambulances by saving people before they got hurt, but as Gustav waved away each and every argument they had degenerated somewhat rapidly into childish flights of fantasy.

So far Georg’s ideas were getting no response from Gustav, but he was saving his cape theory for later.

“And when you’re flying around people could be like ‘is it a bird, is it a plane, no it’s Superbear.’”

Gustav fixed him with a look that obviously was meant to portray how insane he thought Georg was acting.

Georg threw out one last suggestion. “You could have your own theme song like ‘Gustiman, Gustiman, does whatever a Gusti can.”

Gustav’s eye was twitching.

“I am not a superhero.”

“You’re not yet, but you can be when...”

“I am going to say this one last time. I. Am. Not. A. Superhero. I don’t know why I have these powers or whatever but there is no greater purpose for them. I don’t have a danger sensor or sharper than average hearing or vision. Hell you’ve tried my glasses on; you know how bad my eyes are.”

“Neither does Batman,” Georg interrupted, “And he’s still...”

“Note to Georg. Batman doesn’t exist and neither do his helpful gadgets. There’s no way that I’d be able to sort out some sort of organised method of crime fighting.” Gustav fought to find the right words. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“I have helped more people with music than I could ever dream of saving people randomly one by one. You’re the second person I’ve been able to save with my ‘Powers’ but the people out there, the people who aren’t hurting themselves, the people who feel that there are others who understand because of what I do, because of what we all do through our music are people we have saved in their millions. You can say that I’m wasting my time being a drummer when I can save people? Then you do it. Give up being a bassist and become a vigilante, and I can assure you that you will not help one thousandth of the people you help now every day. You can keep asking me about this and keep trying to change who I am, but all you’re going to get out of it is one less friend. Now if you’ll excuse me I want to go get changed before sound check.” 

Gustav, having no more to say, headed out the door to escape the inevitable arguments that would be thrown at him in response.

But for once Georg had shut up. He understood.

***

The next day Georg said sorry to Gustav, who had waved his apology away and told him to go fetch his drumsticks.

Georg had gotten it eventually; Gustav didn’t want them to dwell on anything from this experience, not the powers or the argument and Georg was perfectly happy going along with whatever Gustav wanted at this point.

He had decided that he didn’t need to ask questions any more. He might as well be asking himself questions. Even if they couldn’t lift ten times their body weight and move at the speed of sound, in their own way all of them were heroes. A hero didn’t need to be a better person than everyone else. A hero didn’t need to be perfect. All that mattered was that someone somewhere called you theirs.

Now all Georg needed to do was find a place that sold matching capes.


End file.
